Lumiere, darling…

Okay. I understand that “lumi√®re” means “light.” Even as a little kid watching Beauty and the Beast, it was hard to miss the increasingly-convenient names of Beast’s staff, culminating of course with Mrs. Potts, where they just threw up their hands and went, “to heck with even basic cartoon-level subtlety!” I imagine this is much the same as what happened when the people charged with choosing the English-language Pokemon names decided on “Seel” for … y’know, the one that’s a seal. Even Ekans has the decency to be written backwards….

That said, a movie like Beauty and the Beast is not so easily walled off as some more-mundane context wherein mere synonyms and homonyms reside. It’s easy enough to say, “well he’s obviously talking about her hair and not a hare, because only the first one would make any sense in this sentence.” You don’t even have to think about it, really. It’s a love song, the default is “no wildlife.” But Lumiere is LUMIERE. It doesn’t matter if you already knew prior to 1994 that “simba” was a word for lion, if it pops up unexpectedly in a sentence from now on you’re gonna see a particular Simba whether his presence make ANY sense or not. This is just how these things work.

I guess it’s what I get for listening to Tenerife Sea instead of proper festive music. To be fair though, The Parting Glass is fairly festive, and I can’t help what’s on the same album….

What I’m trying to say is, have a happy new year and please enjoy this unsettling mental image to haunt welcome you into 2016:

Lumiere

I’ll have you know that I don’t have the faintest clue where my eraser has gone (I had more, but finals week did the smaller ones in), so all errors and base sketching had to remain in place. I think it adds nicely to the overall creepy nature of an animate candelabrum with a coy smile and a melting forehead, though.

 

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For auld lang syne…

Man oh man, time for a feelings-break. I know sappy stuff is popular this time of year, but I seem to have stumbled on an entire decade-plus backlog of feels over the course of this week. First we had The Good Dinosaur. Okay, kind of knew that was coming to a degree there, but it’s not just the whole thing with the parents. Disney and, to an extent, Pixar kill off parents, hat’s just their thing, and I get it. Who wants a cartoon about an adventure that keeps getting interrupted by the mundane demands of a stable nuclear family? The requisite child protagonist, given zero or limited parental supervision, can get into all kinds of ridiculous trouble without getting IN trouble. Also, Batman.

Anyhow.

It’s not the orphan/widow thing, is what I’m saying. It’s virtually everything else that happens in this movie. I mean, one of the lead characters is a toddler/puppy who keeps almost getting killed. Dude. Plus, all the howling. It totally makes sense — humans copy animals all the time, especially canines, we have similar social structures, and howling carries well over distances like yodeling. But it’s a SAD sound, especially since more parallels are made to dogs than wolves over the course of the movie; howling dogs, of course, are associated with mourning first and foremost.

Then I tuned into that SNL special that talks about the show in the 00’s. Oh hey, lots of good cast members in that decade, crazy elections, this should be a lark.

Except of course, a good deal of it was devoted to ’01 and the aftermath, and that episode with the firefighters. I was ten in ’01 and was basically just upset that the news interrupted Pokemon (because children are horrible creatures and also because I just assumed bad things were what the news was about so how was this different?), but I can never *quite* handle the bit with the firefighters.

So I made it through that, and decided to listen to Auld Lang Syne while trying to draw something for my blog tonight. I couldn’t remember which one I’d listened to and liked earlier, so I just told Spotify to play them all. Soon we got to a Kenny G version from ’99, the “Millennium Mix.” Lots and lots of news clips over the music. I was half-listening at first and was just off the SNL special, so I thought, “Oh, they’ll probably end with 9/11″… then remembered that it hadn’t happened yet. Kind of a weird sensation to listen to 100+ years of the most notable and emotional events — some of which even my young self was around for — and have it cut off right before that.

SO, now I’m listening to the P!nk album I got for Christmas and skipping the slow songs. Even that can’t drown out the wind though, which is doing some proper howling of its own. It’s been doing this all night, thus my North Wind sketch (black Crayola pencil on sketch pad, because that’s what I got for Christmas and sometimes you gotta go with the classics) for tonight.

NorthWind

Yes, it looks like a Reshiram crossed with a Linoone. No, it wasn’t intentional. DEAL WITH IT.

Oops, maybe that’s enough P!nk for me.

Happy Sappy Holidays!

Days will come and go….

Hello again!

As you may have guessed, it’s no coincidence that it’s the final week of the semester and I’ve suddenly started posting again. I just finished the last exam this morning, and rather than spend my newfound free time constantly reloading to see if my grades have been posted yet, I figured I should do something marginally more constructive.

So I’m watching RiffTrax.

But before that I was listening to Foo Fighters, partly because I can’t turn down a free album and partly because I really like “Saint Cecilia.” And not just because it’s the name of a nearby church.

As you may recall from your mist-shrouded memories of this past October, two whole months ago, when I mention a song here it means I drew something for it. So, without further ado:

StCece

Yeah, I got a little lazy once I reached the feet. Feet are hard. Actually, remembering to draw the thing the feet are on before drawing the feet themselves is hard. This particular lack of foresight has been a problem of mine since I was about six years old, so I’m really not expecting much improvement at this point.

Requisite backstory: I always love how enthusiastically starlings sing, and they’re really quite good at it as well. They don’t just stick to the same old tune — they mimic, remix, and improvise using sounds from their surroundings. They seem to have a thing for hawk cries, which used to make my backyard sound like a scene from an old Western, but once they get going they can sing beautiful music as well. Since St. Cecilia is the patron saint of musicians, a starling seemed like a sensible choice.